Jack Gibson was a local businessman in Madrid. He owned a nice little tavern on Highway 17 called "Jack and Jenny's." Jenny was Jack's wife until her untimely death a few months before he and mom began seeing each other.Jack was on the shorter side with thinning black hair and a very pronounced "beer belly." His stomach resembled the midsection of an expectant mother in her 38th week of pregnancy... evidence that, over the years, he consumed as much beer as he served.
Jack seemed to have an ever-present grin on his face as well as a thick wad of bills in his pocket. He was a generous man, frequently peeling off bills and liberally distributing them to Bruce and me. I could be bought. I liked him.
He had two kids. Phillip was a grade ahead of me at school and Jackie was my elder by two years. I had seen them at school but really didn't know them too well.Phillip seemed pretty cool. He enjoyed sports as much as I did and that gave us a real point of connection. He always had this humble attitude and a charming self-deprecating humor. He was always quick to compliment my accomplishments, which was great for my ego. I decided that he was okay to keep around.
Jackie, on the other hand, gave me a bad vibe. I'm not really sure what it was, but I felt immediately that if mom and Jack's relationship lasted any length of time, we were going to butt heads before long. My prophecy proved to be true... over and over.
I'm certainly not laying the blame on Jackie for our squabbles. I accept part of the blame... maybe even most of the blame. Suffice it to say that we had a very turbulent relationship. More on that later.
The site of their wedding was the famed "Little Brown Church" in Nashua, Iowa. It was a simple ceremony attended by only two witnesses, Liz and Dave Lepovitz, friends of Jack. I don't recall being offended that the kids didn't get to attend. I was too busy trying to figure out how this new "Brady Bunch" type family unit was going to work.
Home sweet home!
Our new family members moved in with us. I guess it was a better arrangement than moving into the apartment above the bar where the Gibson's had lived.
The three boys had one room, Jackie had another and the newlyweds chose the "freezer." What is the "freezer" you ask? Well, it was a room, never intended to be a bedroom.
It had continuous windows that ran the full perimeter of the room and it hadn't a single heating vent. It was more like a three seasons porch. I guess it served okay as a bedroom during the warmer months but during the winter, it might be better utilized as a meat locker.
To make matters worse, the new couple, craving their privacy, kept the door securely closed at ALL times, which prevented any warmth from the heated portion of the house to trickle into the "freezer." I swear, if you walked into their room on a cold winter morning, you could literally see your breath!
What really made this arrangement utterly disgusting was "the bucket." Mom and Jack slept in the raw. I apologize for the disturbing visual created by my last sentence. Anyway... when nature called during the over-night hours, rather than throwing on a robe to cover all their nakedness and venturing out of their love nest to the Jack & Jill bathroom between the kids' room, they chose to simply squat over their metal bucket instead. <Shiver>Again... my apologies.
But actually... overall... things weren't that bad. I even found myself getting along with Jackie. Mom and Jack appeared to be thoroughly enjoying wedded bliss. They were constantly smooching and when they weren't tangled up in a lip-lock, they cooed and made goo-goo eyes at each other. The way they acted when Jack was leaving for work was simply unbelievable. You would have thought he was about to set sail for some distant battlefield, never to return!
The Brady Bunch.
Wedded bliss.
Romantic passion.
The calm before the storm...
